


Missing Bunker Scene

by LyricalKris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x03, 10x03 coda, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricalKris/pseuds/LyricalKris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after Cas dragged Dean back to the dungeon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Bunker Scene

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So this is a missing scene from the Supernatural episode Soul Survivor. Basically, after that angel/demon bear hug, I started day dreaming what happened as Cas dragged Dean off. Plus, ya know, I’m sure a haitus-worth of imagining Cas and Dean’s reunion didn’t help. ANYWAY. 10x03 Coda fic!

It was only only after Cas had wrestled Dean back into the dungeon that his animalistic screams turned into sadistic laughter. “Well, well, well. Hello, angel.”

Cas said nothing. He pushed Dean down into the seat, hearing the slam of the door behind them as Sam locked them in. For the first time, Cas was face to face with Dean’s demon form. He sucked in a breath. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Yet another reason he was glad he was an angel just then. A human would have been crippled by the pain of it--seeing Dean’s soul mangled and ugly.

Dean whistled, and though Cas tensed, ready for him to try to barrel past him, out of the room again, he relaxed. His eyes wandered Cas’s face, down his body before he looked back up again. He licked his lips, and even Cas, as oblivious as he usually was with human flirtation, knew the movement was rife with sexual tension. “That’s quite a look on you, Cas. That’s what they call magnificent, isn’t it?” He chuckled.

Of course. Dean could see his true form now. Cas kept his hands locked around Dean’s wrists.

“The handcuffs won’t work,” Sam said. “That’s how he got out.”

“You remember the blessed rope you have upstairs? I told you about it?”

Rope blessed by Michael himself. A relic from ages long past. He remembered cataloging much of the bunker’s treasures with Sam while neither of them talked about how much they missed Dean. Sam was still angry. Cas just wished he could fix whatever was wrong with the brothers, so Dean could come home.

“That’ll hold a Knight of Hell?” Sam asked.

Dean’s eyes still hadn’t left his, and he was running his tongue along his bottom lip. It made Cas’s throat dry. “Not long,” he said. “Long enough.” Long enough to give them a significant advantage as long as Cas stayed in the room to catch him. “I’ll be fine. Go get it.”

“Yeah, Sammy. Go on. Me and Cas should catch up.” Dean said, his lips turning up in a sinister smile. “Been a while.”

“I’ll be quick,” Sam said, moving to the door.

“Take your time,” Dean drawled.

When the door was safely closed and locked, Cas stood but made no move to walk away.

Dean’s eyes still hadn’t left his face. He chuckled. “I’ll tell you what, sunshine, if I’d have known you were alive…” He whistled again. 

An awkward feeling had begun to prick at the back of Cas’s neck, but he stared right back at the demon who had consumed his friend. He was so caught up in trying to find the pieces of his shredded soul that he didn’t see Dean move to touch his hand. He was quick, though, and he had his hands clamped hard around Dean’s wrists again in a heartbeat.

“Take it easy,” Dean said.

Cas wanted to shake the thing. He remembered Dean on his knees in front of him, his face bloodied by Cas’s own hand, pleading for Cas to come back. He would do it if he thought he could bring his friend back with words alone. He would do anything.

“You’re not going to trick me, Dean. We’re going to help you.”

“Help me get back to my normal, pathetic, guilt-ridden self? Now why would you want that, hmm?”

They were so close, Dean’s nose was almost brushing his. It was disconcerting, but Cas was sure in his goal. He sent a rush of his powers to his grip, and watched as Dean winced, but he kept talking. “I’ll tell you something, Cas, maybe you want to reconsider if you want that asshole back.”

“I prefer him to this asshole,” Cas snapped, more on edge than he wanted to be. It was surprising how this version of his friend could get under his skin so quickly. 

“Aw. You don’t know what you’re missing, that’s all.” He tilted his head, looking up at Cas, forcing him to see the malevolence, the evil that had never been a part of Dean before, not even when he tortured and ripped people apart in Hell. “Aren’t you curious, Cas? About the things I never told you when I was that cowardly piece of crap?”

Cas steadied his gaze, looking beyond the demon to the man he knew had to still be somewhere in there. “You’re not a coward, Dean. You’ve never been a coward.”

“Ah, sure I was. So wrapped up in living up to the expectations of a man who's been dead for eight damn years… You know, I could make a move on any pretty little thing that looked at me the right way, and some who looked at me the wrong way.” He laughed. “But an angel with a shotgun?” His eyes flicked down, his smile turning lascivious, and Cas found he understood the double entendre just fine for once. “Can’t have that, now can we? Daddy could never love a little fudge packer.”

The bolt of electric shock that went down Cas’s spine was strong enough to loosen his hold on Dean’s wrists. That was all his friend needed. His hands shot up and grabbed Cas by the lapels of his shirt, pulling him in that last inch.

It was a hard kiss, bruising with its force. Cas heard himself make a startled moan, and he couldn’t move. He was struck dumb by simultaneous urges. He wanted to throw this vile thing away from him. This wasn’t Dean. This wasn’t his Dean. His Dean wouldn’t move his hand to the back of Cas’s head and grip his hair like that. His Dean wouldn’t thrust his tongue in his mouth so violently. And yet, Cas wanted more than anything to give in. Let the fight drain from his body and show this Dean that he was just as powerful. He’d stunned the last demon he’d kissed, after all. He knew what he was good at.

Three seconds. It took Cas three full seconds before he remembered how to move and that this Dean was only manipulating him. He grabbed Dean by the arms, letting his stolen grace send enough energy through him that Dean broke the kiss with a scream. He slumped back in his chair and licked his swollen lips. Incredibly, Cas found he was panting, breathless even though he technically required no air.

“Tell me you didn’t want that,” Dean said.

“I didn’t want that,” Cas spat. It was the truth and it was a lie, and the look on Dean’s face said he knew it.

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “What’s a matter, Cas? You only want me when I can be your little human pet? The things I could do to you, angel.”

Righteous fury boiled through Cas’s veins. The demon’s nearness, Dean’s nearness, was almost too much. He wanted to punch him. Or kiss him again, he wasn’t sure which.

Cas was never so glad to hear a door open. Sam was finally back. Dean was surprisingly cooperative, his eyes never leaving Cas--goading him--as Sam handcuffed and tied him to the chair. 

As Cas straightened up, he took several steps back. He felt like he could finally take a deep breath again. Sam glanced at him and back at his brother. “Are you okay, Cas? Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Cas said, his tone clipped. “We have to be quick. The ropes won’t hold him for long.” And his stolen grace wouldn’t last forever. 

Sam regarded him for another second before he moved to his brother’s side and dosed him with the blessed blood. Cas was almost relieved to see Dean’s intense stare melt into a grimace of pure agony.

Almost relieved. He hated to see Dean in pain no matter what the guise.

Dean’s head lolled to the side. “Cas,” he said. He looked like he was about to pass out again.

Cas took a deep breath and let it out again. “What?”

“He wanted that.” His eyes closed. “I wanted that.”

“What’s he talking about?” Sam asked.

Cas had to swallow around a thick lump in his throat. His heart was beating too fast. “Nonsense,” he lied. “He was just trying to get to me.”

Sam looked at him, but he didn’t push.  
~0~  
Afterward, when he went to speak with Dean after Sam left, some small part of Cas wondered if curing Dean had been the right thing to do.

Of course it had been the right thing. Cas knew Dean’s soul. He knew damn well Dean’s worst nightmare had always been becoming a demon. Just because he’d enjoyed it at the time, didn’t mean it was what he’d wanted. It was why Cas had been so sure that Dean wouldn’t have wanted to live as a demon, why he’d been able to say those words--he hadn’t wanted it, of course he never wanted Dean to be gone--when Sam needed to hear them.

Still. The heaviness Dean always carried with him was worse now, a lot worse. But his face, his soul. It was pure again. Light. Beautiful.

Cas wished his friend could see it, could believe in his own inherent goodness. 

“I’m sure Sam knows whatever you said, what you did, wasn’t really you,” Cas said.

He wondered if Dean heard the double meaning in his words. He’d been trying to convince himself of the very same thing.

Cas shook the thought away. Fleeting. Angels didn’t yearn.

Turning back to the task at hand, he gave Dean what comfort he could, assuring him Sam wouldn’t leave him--Sam was always the most important thing--and that he might consider taking it easy.

He left before he could give in to the urge to talk, to ask about the things the demon had said. Dean knew him, that was all, and the demon had known the best way to catch him by surprise. No need to trouble Dean about what was, in reality, merely cunning strategy.

The door to Dean’s room opened again when Cas was only part way down the hall. “Cas?” Dean called.

Cas paused and turned around. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, um…”

Dean wasn’t looking at him. He rubbed the back of his neck, agitated and jumpy. "What is it, Dean? I'll get anything you require."

His friend huffed. "Ya know, would it kill one of you to take a swing at me? You gotta want to after the shit I pulled."

"You weren't--"

"It was me,” Dean said, his tone flat. "I wasn't possessed. The things I said to Sam, the things..." He swallowed hard, flexing his fists at his sides. "The things I said to you. They were my thoughts. Twisted but mine."

Cas blinked, fighting back the urge to throw holy water in Dean's face. Surely he couldn’t mean...

"Anyway. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't what you wanted."

There was a lot he wanted to say. So much so that the words seemed to get tangled up in his mouth. 

He wanted to say no he hadn't wanted Dean to do what he did, but not because he didn't want Dean to kiss him. He hadn’t wanted it because it was a perversion of everything Cas did want.

Cas wanted to tell Dean everything, every thought he'd quashed and dismissed in the six years they'd known each other. 

How peculiar it had been. For eons, he'd thought of nothing but his Father's love and His orders. He'd been consumed by nothing but his Father's work. And then he'd pulled Dean from hell and everything changed. More and more of his thoughts centered around this human, and wasn't that strange?

He thought back to the few months he’d spent as a human, and how he’d felt everything with such intensity. How he’d wanted it to be Dean when April brought him in from the cold. How it felt to wake from death to Dean leaning over him. How it felt to be safe and warm in the bunker for the first time.

How it had occurred to him once, when his waning grace made him tired and near enough to human, that if he’d been able to stay with the boys in the bunker, maybe everything would have been different.

It had been a fleeting thought. When he thought that way about Dean, it was always fleeting. He never let it settle, because it wasn’t in an angel’s nature to yearn. But he knew. On some level, he’d always known. Why the mission was never more important than Dean unless Dean was the mission. 

He was still so long, Dean started to turn away. Abruptly panicked, Cas reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, turning him back.

Finally, Dean looked up, his eyes more vulnerable than Cas could ever remember seeing. Cas straightened up, wondering why his heart was trying to shard to pound out of his chest yet again. "You weren't wrong," he said.

Dean tilted his head, searching him. 

"I did...want. I do want. You."

If Dean were his usual self, he probably would have laughed. Cas knew he wasn't being what his friend would have called smooth, but the light that sparked in Dean's eyes, the small flash of hope told Cas maybe smooth didn’t matter.

And maybe--

"Hey, Dean! Come get your burger!"

Dean and Cas both jumped back at the sound of Sam's voice. Dean cleared his throat again. "Coming, Sammy."

He held Cas’s eyes a beat longer before he brushed by him, heading for the kitchen. Cas let him go, understanding what humans meant when they said their heads were spinning. That was an understatement. 

Everything had just changed.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Many thanks to myheroin1, everydaybella, and Nikki!


End file.
